


Dinner Date With Hate

by Lidsworth



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Hide's perspective, Self-Hatred, poor Hide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3726427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidsworth/pseuds/Lidsworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After he learns of Kaneki's  torture at the hands of Yamori, Hide begins to fall apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner Date With Hate

**Author's Note:**

> based off of this headcanon by alchemic-red-flower.tumblr.com:  
> Headcanon that one of the few times Hide really hated himself was when I found out Kaneki was tortured for 10 days. He probably thought if he had just told the CCG sooner about the Aogiri hideout then Kaneki could have been saved. Hide probably threw things across his room and cried frustrated tears. You can’t not feel anger, regret, sadness, etc when your best friend gets tortured.  
> Imagine how Hide must have felt seeing, hearing, and knowing all the shit Kaneki was going through. We’ve always seen Hide relatively calm, even down in the sewers he remained calm considering the danger he was in but imagine the heart ache he had seeing his best friend like that.
> 
>  
> 
> I love angst, so i couldn't pass up the chance to write it!

 

It had been another long night without food for dinner. Instead, dinner this time had been a clean table, it's contents swiped off of its surface in a fit of anger. Sticky notes flew through the air like feathers from a torn pillow (and pillows, in fact had been torn that night, much like Hide's heart), and what little furniture Hide had lay displaced on the ground, turned at all sorts of obtuse angles.

 

However, sticky notes and furniture hadn't been the only inanimate objects that Hide had raged at that evening.

Maps that had marked Aogiri's location had been torn to shreds, pictures of ghouls he'd worked so hard to track had been crumpled up and trashed. Journals full of intricate directions, and careful planning had been destroyed as well, thrown out of the window, torn like the maps, crumpled like the pictures, gone, gone, GONE.

 

What good was his research if he couldn't save his friend from torture?

 

Three hours later , Hide stood in the midst of his destruction of corrupted evidence. He shook, though not as badly as he had when he arrived home earlier that evening at around eight. But he still shook. His nails had dug into the leather skin of his palms until they bled, his chest sunk in deeply as his breath hitched, his shoulders trembled as he tried to prevent his rage from turning into desperate sadness.

 

Desperate, because he didn't know what else to do.

 

Why the hell did he wait to bring this to the CCG? Why on earth did he think that he could save Kaneki without their immediate help?

 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Hide screamed to no one in particular. It just felt good to scream at something. He had all the damn information, _all_ of it. What on earth had he been waiting for? Now Kaneki was further away from Hide then the blond over thought possible, he wasn't the same.

 

“And it's all your damn fault,” Hide fell to his knees as he cursed himself under his breath, “all...your...fault.”

 

And it was. He'd seen the evidence, seen what the CCG had manage to retrieve from the incident, had listened to Kaneki's pleas and screams behind sadistic laughter (from his own tracking device), and the clipping of pliers, and laughter, and crying, and the dreaded question, 'What's a thousand minus seven' and before Hide knew it, his face had been stained with tears, and his fingers dragged through his messy hair as he pulled and pulled at thick clumps.

 

He stayed like that for a while.

 

His mind kept on replaying what he heard, kept on visualizing how his timid friend must have felt in such a situation. Kaneki wasn't a strong person, he needed help, he _always_ needed help. Little things bothered him, he lacked confidence, and his self esteem was a permanent all time low...

 

If only Hide reported what he found to the CCG! All of this could have been avoided.

 

With a grunt, he forced himself up and dragged his heavy body the kitchen. He'd already decided that tonight was going to be a long night (he'd need to recover whatever destroyed evidence he could, and perhaps conduct a mini investigation of his own. He'd lost a lot in his fit) and that he was in need of a strong coffee that would keep him up into the early morning.

 

Yanking open his cabinet, and grabbing at the bag of coffee mix (he couldn't make coffee with the beans—he'd tried. His skills sucked), he quickly tore it open. Placing it on the counter top, he opened his dishwasher, and pulled out a mug. Like before, his hands trembled as he took the mug by its thin handle and placed it atop of the counter beside the coffee.

 

In a swift motion, the blond grabbed the bag, albeit a little too tightly. Scented, a cloud of coffee ascended from the sack, and into Hide's face. The smell was pungent, like earthy dirt. And bitter, like Kaneki usually took it.

 

 _Kaneki...would you still make me coffee if I came to Anteiku again?_ The thought in itself was childish, and it brought back memories of a Kaneki that was no more. Though memories would be the last of Kaneki that he could salvage.

 

Chapped lips quivered as fine coffee ran out of the paper bag like soft grains of sand falling through finger gaps. Tapping—soft tapping, like small dog paws on wooden floors sounded from the mug as the grains rubbed against the smooth sides.

 

Though well past the initial amount off coffee Hide should have poured into the cup, the bag poured and poured, until the dark substance began to spill over, and around the cups exterior. After dropping the empty bag on the counter, Hide made to retrieve the tea kettle (though wondered if lukewarm coffee would suffice that night. His tears had soaked the coffee enough), only to realize that he'd never even filled it with water to begin with.

 

“Pull yourself together Hide,” he spoke through shaky lips, as he grabbed the metal from the stove top with an unsteady grip, “pull yourself together.”   
  
He manged to make it to the sink, and managed to turn on the faucet, and even managed to get the kettle underneath the faucet, as it spewed out tongues of fresh water. Though getting to the mug was another story.

 

He hadn't calculated just how much water he'd put into the kettle, but needless to say, it had been too much for his unsteady grasp to handle. The kettle crashed to the ground the moment he hauled it from the skin, and water went spilling everywhere. Worse of all, Hide's exposed toes swelled in pain as the kettle smashed them. In an attempt to alleviate the pulsating sensation in his one foot, he inclined his back downward as he lifted his pain inflicted foot upwards, only to lose his balance seconds later.

 

With his entire floor covered in a thin sheet of water, he slipped backward, slamming his head into counter, thus tipping over the overfilled coffee mug. Dark mounds of coffee fell into his blond hair, slid down his face, onto his shirt, and into the growing puddle below him.

 

The amount of coffee surprised Hide, as he suddenly remembered that he didn't like dark coffee, he never did. The only reason he even had a bag in his house was for Kaneki, just in case the ghoul decided to drop by.

 

Soaked at the bottom with water, dirtied at the top with coffee, and in an immense amount of pain, Hide realized just how pathetic he was. He was a failure, a failure who couldn't even save his best fried. He was supposed to be the strong one out of the two of them, yet he left Kaneki to fend for himself.

 

Hide never thought it possible to hate himself. In class, he'd encountered many students who threw around the term “self hate” in casual conversation, like it was nothing. It seemed like nothing. Hating one's self seemed stupid, hating one's life even more so. But Hide got it now, Hide understood just why people hated themselves, and it made so much sense.

 

Failure, he was a failure, a failure who had nothing good to offer. A failure who's presence to the world never made a difference. Wouldn't make a difference. A failure who couldn't even save Kaneki, who needed him more than anything.

 

Bringing his hands to his face, Hide let out a strangled sob. Oh how he wished it had been him sitting in front of a crazed Yamori, and not Kaneki.

 

The one thing he now lived for, he couldn't even do right.

 

Oh how he hated himself.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, and if you're a Hidekane fan on tumblr, follow alchemic-red-flower.tumblr.com, their hidekane headcanons are awesome! Hope you enjoyed it, have a wonderful weekend, and God bless!


End file.
